


Way to say hello

by huxley



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: inception_kink, First Kiss, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Necks, Public Display of Affection, Schmoop, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/huxley/pseuds/huxley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eames' new habit of kissing Arthur's neck in greeting is merely irritating (or so he tells himself), until the morning he forgets himself and it turns into something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Way to say hello

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt at inception_kink.

The first time Arthur saw Eames drunk, it was the night he turned up at Eames’ apartment and he practically fell out the door and into Arthur's arms. The fact that Arthur was there to pick him up to take him drinking, at a specified location, at a pre-arranged time, with other people, hadn't seemed to occur to Eames, who had apparently decided to start the party early by himself. He was half dressed, in his socks with his shirt half buttoned, and was laughing so much at something Arthur couldn't tell if Eames even recognised who he was.

"For God's sake, Eames," he said, holding him at arm's length, "couldn't you have waited for me to get here? I can't take you out in this state."

Eames swayed on his feet and grabbed the doorframe. The laughter faded from his face and he fixed his reddened eyes on Arthur. They widened as though seeing him for the first time in years and he broke into a huge smile.

"Darling!" he said, throwing an arm around his shoulders, "you're finally bloody here! I've been waiting for you!"

Before Arthur could protest that he was precisely on time, Eames yanked him forward and pressed his face into Arthur’s neck, rough with stubble but smelling divine, even beneath the heavy cloud of alcohol. He curled a hand into Arthur’s hair and pressed a sloppy, open mouthed kiss just below his ear.

Arthur's hand froze on its way to Eames' shoulder.

Arthur wasn't fool enough to deny that he was very taken with Eames' mouth. He knew from the moment he met him that it was a damn rare find, so the tingle that spread down his spine and along his arms, breaking him out into goosebumps, wasn't entirely a surprise.

Eames pulled back and stared at him, going slightly cross eyed as he tried to focus on Arthur’s face. Arthur fought the urge to laugh.

"Well, let’s go then!" said Eames cheerfully, reaching for the doorknob.

"You might want to finish dressing yourself first," Arthur suggested, pushing a confused Eames back into his apartment, feeling the wet mark on his neck beginning to dry and wishing that he couldn't.

*

Arthur was on his second coffee the next morning when Eames appeared in the warehouse, still in last night's shirt and looking like several helpings of hell.

"Morning," Arthur smirked over his mug. Eames spared him a glance and a grunt before heading for the water cooler. He filled a cup and gulped it down.

"Did I," he asked, "or did I not, vomit into a gutter last night?"

Arthur set down his coffee and pulled a stack of files towards him, enjoying the situation even more than he had anticipated.

"You did," he began, "and also against a Mercedes which was parked outside the bar, but I managed to pull you away before you could go back inside and, I quote, ‘shag the owner to apologise’".

Eames snorted and crumpled the plastic cup in his fist. He tossed it towards the bin, missing by several yards.

"Anything else you want to share before the others get in?" he asked, ambling up to Arthur's desk and dropping down onto the edge. "I know how much you're enjoying being the one to tell me."

Arthur smiled and flicked through his file.

"No, that's everything," he said, "unless you count falling into my arms and kissing me on the neck as noteworthy."

Eames barked out a laugh that sounded painful in his rough, hung-over voice.

"Is that so?" he said. "And you just begged for more, am I right?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows and looked up at him, tapping his foot against the leg of the table.

"Do I seem like the begging type to you, Eames?"

Eames considered him for a moment. Arthur didn't miss the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He swallowed and was the first to break their eye contact, not trusting himself not to blush if Eames so much as wet his lips.

"No, I suppose not," Eames said, leaving Arthur to his work. He ignored the urge to tug on his shirt collar where it rubbed against his neck, which had somehow become more sensitive overnight.

*

They met the next day in the lobby of a hotel. Cobb had arranged a meeting with a new client and to Arthur's surprise, Eames was the first to arrive. He came through the doors and glanced around, spotted Arthur standing by the elevators and walked over, looking much brighter after a full night's sleep and a shower. Arthur nodded in greeting and before he could open his mouth, Eames had grabbed him by the back of the head and planted a rough kiss on the side of his neck.

"Morning, Arthur," he grinned, smoothing Arthur's hair back into place. He took in Arthur's stunned expression and laughed, shoving him with his shoulder.

"Much better sober, is it?"

Arthur had the sense to roll his eyes and to look irritated. He straightened his jacket (unnecessarily), jostled his files into order (they didn't need it) and pressed the button for the elevator (the wrong one - he pressed the right one and hoped Eames hadn't noticed).

"Well, it's improved by the fact you aren't hanging off me like a half dressed gorilla, yes," he said, staring up at the dial as it slid frustrating slowly to the ground floor, ignoring Eames' gaze on the back of his neck.

*

It became a running joke after that.

Drunk, sober, and everything in between, Eames grabbed Arthur and kissed his neck in greeting, regardless of who else was present or what mood Arthur happened to be in. It was always in the same spot - two inches below his right ear - and it was always open mouthed, its dampness depending on how much Eames wished to irritate Arthur that day.

Weeks passed and the hairs on the back of Arthur's neck still rose when it happened, his back muscles still twitched, and if Arthur happened to be holding something it was under threat of being dropped when Eames leaned down for his morning kiss. Arthur now hated the fact that he knew the exact circumference of Eames' mouth before it opened against his skin, knew the exact amount of pressure to expect (firm, not hard or ticklish) and especially hated how his eyes were guaranteed to drop to Eames' lips as he spoke (even more so than they had done before).

One morning saw Arthur in a slight panic, his laptop having somehow lost data on the same day that Cobb had phoned to say that their flight had been changed, and so could he have the research ready a day early, please? Arthur was bent over his desk, tapping furiously at the keyboard in a useless way he would no doubt tut at Eames for doing. His phone buzzed and one glance told him it was Cobb again. He swore and ignored it, staring at the screen and willing the files to magically appear on his desktop.

He heard the door slam closed and recognised Eames' heavy footsteps as he came into the warehouse.

"You hear we're leaving a day early?" Eames asked, coming up behind him.

"Yes, I fucking heard," Arthur snapped. He reached up a hand instinctively, clutching Eames by the shoulder and tilting his neck up into his kiss. "You won't believe what this piece of shit has decided to do to me today."

It took a moment for Arthur to realise that Eames' lips hadn't left his neck and that his hand was still on Eames' shoulder, his fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt.

"Eames?"

Eames smiled against his neck, his lips soft and curving. The touch was unfamiliar, but the prickle along Arthur's back was far from it.

"You beginning to like my mouth then, hmm?" he asked, his voice low and teasing. His hum sent vibrations along Arthur's skin, up behind his ear and onto his scalp. He swallowed, the sound ludicrously loud and he stared blankly at the screen.

"Suppose I've gotten used to it," he muttered. He tried to take his hand from Eames' shoulder, he really did, but the hand didn't seem to want to move.

Neither did Eames' mouth. It slid down to just beneath Arthur's shirt collar, and the kiss that it pressed there was soft enough that Arthur wondered if he had actually felt it. Eames kissed him again, firmer this time, higher up on his neck. He moved up again and Arthur moved with him, tilting his head as Eames' nose edged up the line of his neck. Eames breathed against his raised tendon, letting the tip of his tongue slide along it and Arthur's fingers tightened in Eames' shirt.

"I think you've more than gotten used to it, darling," Eames whispered.

He held Arthur's jaw gently in his fingers and tilted Arthur's head back, leaning over him. He slowly kissed over the arch of Arthur's Adam's apple, pausing to fucking _suck_ at his pulse point. Arthur's mouth dropped open and his heart raced, feeling irritated somewhere in the back of his mind that Eames was probably able to feel it.

Eames ran his lips up over Arthur's jaw and Arthur gasped in realisation before Eames' mouth closed over his own. Arthur's hand slid from Eames' shoulder into his hair, nails scratching across his scalp as he pressed up into the kiss. A weak little sound escaped Arthur and Eames moaned softly in reply. His fingers tightened on Arthur’s jaw and gently prised his mouth open, slipping his tongue inside.

Arthur's eyes rolled in his head and his back arched, sliding his tongue against Eames, tasting the roof of his mouth. He pulled back a little and ran the tip of his tongue along the curve of Eames' lip, Eames' breath hot and heavy on his face.

"I love your mouth," said Arthur, before he could catch himself. He thanked God that his eyes were closed, that Eames was too close to properly see the flush that Arthur knew was staining his cheeks.

Arthur waited, waited for the smirk and the laughter -

"I love yours, too," Eames said, sounding amused, though not exactly as Arthur had imagined. "And your neck," he added, kissing the spot that had started the bizarre turn of events, "and your cheek," brushing his lips across Arthur's cheekbone, "and your nose - "

Arthur shook with laughter when Eames pressed a little tight lipped kiss to the end of his nose.

"Now tell me my eyes are two pools you wish to swim in forever," he said, opening his eyes and raising an eyebrow.

"That's my specialist material," said Eames, rubbing his thumb over Arthur's cheekbone. "I'll save that for when you really deserve it."

He leaned down and pressed his mouth back to Arthur's. Arthur heard his phone buzzing across the desk, an irritated Cobb most likely on the other end of it, but when Eames' fingers slid up to encase his neck, he decided to ignore it.


End file.
